Childhood memories
by Lycopene
Summary: Summary: There are times when childhood memories are easier to run to. Times when her mind wasn't clouded with complex feelings she couldn't calculate or explain. When it was only the two of them and their curiosity. R&R Human AU.


Word count: 1,008

A/N: Human AU. Childhood bubbline. Fluff? Also, Zebra by Beach House, that's your tune.

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 _CHILDHOOD MEMORIES_

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There are times when childhood memories are easier to run to. Times when her mind wasn't clouded with complex feelings she couldn't calculate or explain. When it was only the two of them and their curiosity leading them to adventures while they explored every single inch of their hometown and its outskirts. When all they had to worry about was scurrying Marceline back before her curfew or not wandering way too far from home.

Life seemed so much easier then, right on the peak of their innocence.

"Look Bonnie, that's a swan isn't it? I had never seen a swan before!" Marceline tried her hardest not to yell and her words exited in a rushed barely contained murmur of excitement.

"I can't quite tell from here, but looks like it." She instantly regrets not bringing her binoculars with her. Their expedition had been way too spontaneous for her to plan ahead, like they always were whenever Marceline lead it.

"The beak is black though!" She pointed from their hunched place among the tall grass.

It didn't do much to hide their small stature, however hunched they were, but they were detectives, pioneers, expeditioners, and role playing was a serious business.

"That's cause mute swans are not native of America, some states have them naturalized in captivity though, like in parks and stuff."

"You are so cool Bonnie," it is said without trepidation like everything Marceline said or did, and it did not fail to bring a rosy color to her cheeks.

Cool was not an adjective her classmates often associated with her.

"Let's get a closer look." Marceline intertwined her fingers with her own and tugged. Their feet soft and hushed against the leaves and grass of the ground, a pair of hunters prying on their prey.

"I'm not sure this is a good idea Marcy," She had once read the story of a man that had been attacked by swans and drowned in one of those sensationalist newspapers Mr. Pepper liked to read.

"Oh, there are two of them!" As was her routine, her friend ignored her comment altogether.

"Marceline," she tried to sound as serious as a 10 year old could, "Swans are very territorial. I wouldn't be surprised if their friends are any close, they usually move in herds—"

She felt a harsh tug on her hand and Marceline was lying face down on the floor, as to which Bonnibel sighed, quietly deciding to follow suit.

"You could've warned me, you know?"

"Just look at them Bonnie, they are so…so…beautiful." Her voice was heavy with children wonder, as if whatever Marceline was staring at was a magical occurrence.

And it almost was, as nature often is. Their feathers were white like the first snow of winter, contrasting strongly with the blackness of their beaks. They were two of them now. And they moved, slowly, in sync with the other, circling each other with their necks. A dance. Bonnibel had never seen something like that before either.

"Did you know that swans often mate for life?" Bonnibel thought she was too young to understand why some humans didn't, like her parents, so she found it peculiar that some animals did.

"Really? That's nice." Marceline said beside her, not once tearing her eyes away from the animals dancing in the pond.

The redhead scrunched up her face in concentration. She didn't really think animals had a choice. Or did they?

"It's just nature, Marcy. Considering all the time they need to migrate, establish territories, incubation and raise their offspring, spending extra time to attract a mate would minimize repro—"

The loud sound of flapping wings interrupted her tirade.

"Oh look they are flying away!" The girl beside her stood up abruptly, and they watched the pair quickly disappear into the horizon.

"Seems like all your talking scared them away!" She heard a snicker from above her at which Bonnibel twisted her mouth.

It was a flaw of hers. Unnecessary talking, unnecessary spewing of facts. She couldn't even help it most of the time. Such a bother. Ugh.

"Relax, okay? I wasn't serious." Marceline extended her hand to her friend, who had remained on the ground brooding. "Stop sulking. Maybe they just went to meet their friends!" she smiled that lop-sided grin she had grown so accustomed to, the one which made Marceline's particularly long canines show.

"Maybe." She took her hand before brushing her jeans off soot. Bonnibel didn't believe her but appreciated her friend's efforts at cheering her up.

"Hey, do you know what I was thinking?" She was now walking ahead of her, fingers intertwined behind her neck.

Bonnibel rose her eyebrows at the black haired girl, of course she had no idea what Marceline Abadeer could be thinking. If anyone had a weird conceptual processing, it was her.

"We…we should be like them, wouldn't that be cool?" Bonnibel couldn't see her face, but from the tone of her voice, if she didn't know Marceline any better she could've sworn she had heard embarrassment etching the voice of her friend.

Marceline embarrassed? Pffft. Nah.

"I don't think you understood what I meant with mating at all, Marcy." She deadpanned.

"Of course I do," She turned to her. The cold of the morning having bruised Marceline's pale cheeks with a blush, "let's just be together forever, you and me Bonnibel, what do you say?"

Bonnibel's intellectual side wanted to argue that forever was an impossible notion to humans, but no one had ever expressed the desire to remain by her side for an indeterminately long period of time, not even her parents. So, however absurd the notion was, if forever existed somewhere in their continuity of time-space it felt like an absurdly good deal to be able to spend it with Marceline by her side.

"Okay." Bonnibel smiled.

"Promise."

.

.

.

The whiteness of the ceiling of her dorm room was starting to piss her off. A blank canvas for her memories to be etched.

"You are such a liar, Bonnibel." She muffled against her pillow.

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a/n: Might or might not be in the same timeline as previous ficlet, Polysemy. I might be tempted to write more childhood one-shots. Yay or Nay?

Feedback is always welcome.

 **Lycopene.**


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